


Signature

by i_paint_the_sky



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_paint_the_sky/pseuds/i_paint_the_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her last moments, Gina has an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Signature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tristesses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/gifts).



Signature

The stream of recycled air was cold against her skin, causing goose pimples to rise along her arms, hairs standing on end. Just another marvel of the human body, replicated without reason on her own. Gina took another deep and trembling breath, trying to convince her heartbeat to slow. It wasn't listening but she didn't expect it to, not now when it never had before.

“I, Gaius Baltar, do now avow and affirm ...” the voice crackled on the radio.

Gaius. Mr. President. When she thought about him, she wished there was some other way. She'd never expected to feel ... anything again, until he came. But try as she might, she still knew her purpose. Her mission. 

Her plan.

_I want to die. Will you help me?_

He'd refused her request then, convinced her that there was more she could achieve. He'd been right – but only for a time. And now they were back to where they started and this time, he was helping, even if he had no idea ( _the look in his eyes as she pressed the gun against her body, it broke the pieces of a shattered heart anew_ ). Gina pulled her legs in closer, watching the bomb on the ground before her. She hadn't armed it yet but she would soon, so soon. And then it would finally be over. She prayed to the God who never answered that she would be forgiven for these sin. After all, it was done in the name of loyalty, to her people and her sisters. 

For the former, she would leave behind a sign in case they ever needed to track the human fleet down, a signature in space. They might never find it; in fact, there was a good chance they would not. But if God wanted them to, it would be there.

For the Sixes, she would ensure that no one else ever had to bear the memories she carried.

She reached forward and pressed the button. A red light came on, steady at first and then slowly blinking, steady like a Centurion’s eye. Gina closed her eyes, listening and waiting and praying.

“What are you doing?”

It was all Gina could do to keep from screaming as her eyes flew open to see the owner of that once cherished voice standing before her. She scrambled onto her feet, backpedalling until she was pressed up against the wall.

“How can you be here?” she whispered.

“Well,” Cain told her, “obviously I'm not. You saw to that.”

She pressed her hands against the wall, wishing there was something to hold onto. “But you are.”

Cain stepped around the bomb, coming closer. “Yes and no.” 

Closer and closer, until finally she stopped a few feet away and Gina could breath again. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I am something else. And, Gina Inviere, I am here to help you, to guide you on your way.”

_I'm here to help you._

She'd heard those words before and believed them, despite a million reasons not to. Maybe that was why she believed again now. She turned her head and spotted a blanket nearby and shuffled over to reach for it, wrapping it around her body. Inhale, hold, exhale.

“I don't understand.”

Cain smiled and oh, it had been so long since Gina had seen that. “You don't have to understand. You have to believe.” 

Believe ... believe.

_On Tauron, we learned early to believe in ourselves and nothing else._

_That's not a very positive world view._

_No, it's a realistic one._

Gina blinked, pushing the memory away. This wasn't the time – no, it was the time but she didn't want that, didn't want to remember when the world had been different ( _a voice calling out to her, turning towards it with an unschooled smile_ ). “I don't think I can believe in anything anymore,” she murmured. Especially not ...

“That's not true,” Cain told her. “I know it's not.”

“What is there to believe in anymore?”

Cain held out her hand. “This.”

_Welcome aboard._

_Thank you, Admiral._

Gina stared at the hand and shook her head. “I won't start that again.”

“As if you meant to start it the first time.”

That was true, it had been almost an accident. She'd only ever meant to become valued, to make those around her comfortable in her presence.

_Admiral, I noticed today that the Pegasus' water delivery system is not functioning at full capacity. If you'd like, I could look into it further and find out the cause._

( _There was no better way to gain Helena Cain's trust than through competency._ )

So much time together, time enough for all the little things ( _a look, a laugh, a touch_ ) to build into something greater. By the time she really saw what was happening, felt it in the throbbing of her heart, it was too late.

_Everyone has needs._

Even a Cylon spy.

“I can't ... I don't want to do this.”

Cain dropped her hand finally. “I wish I could make this easier for you, I wish I could erase all your fears and doubts. But I can't. All I can do is let you know that this is all part of a greater plan and that with you, God is well-pleased.”

“The plan,” Gina said softly. “I have given everything for it.”

“No, not that plan,” Cain told her. “God's plan is so much more than even a Cylon can comprehend.”

_Do you think God will forgive us?_

_God forgives all._

“What are you?” Gina asked.

“We've been given many names,” Helena explained. “Angels, messengers. The Lord of Kobol. We are all these things and none of them.”

Gina wished to ask more but somehow knew no further explanation would ever be given for anything, to anyone. But when she searched her heart and soul, she found a place alive again, a place that accepted these words as truth. Except there was still one thing ...

“Why come as her?” Gina asked. “I loved her and then I hated her.”

“You know why.”

Gina nodded and reached out, taking Helena's hand in hers.

( _A hand clutching at the sheets, hair fanning over the pillow. A hot mouth, seeking hers._ )

“Because,” she said, her voice finally steady, “love and hate are two halves of a whole.”

“Yes. I knew you would listen to her, even now, and that you needed to see this face more than any other in the world.”

Gina looked back over towards the bomb. “It's almost time.”

“It is,” Helena agreed. “What do you want to do with your last moments?”

_Tell me Admiral, can you roll over? Beg?_

_Frak you._

_You're not my type._

No. Not that. That wasn't going to be how she remembered. Even if the good could never outweigh the bad, even if she could never forgive, in this, the moment of her death, she could cling to the few remaining threads of happiness.

Gina leaned in, closed her eyes, pressed her lips against Helena's once and then again, shorter, leaving one last touch, one last moment. Remember this, hold onto it.

( _The first kiss was short and sweet; the second, not so much._ )

When she opened her eyes again, Helena was gone.

Gina walked back to the bomb, dropping the blanket and sitting down before it.

“And now, because it was the first will of the people, I am going to sign my first executive order requiring to immediately establish settlement on the planet we have come to know as New Caprica.

The red light began to flash fast. Faster. Faster. And though she still felt sorrow for what she was doing, for leaving Gaius now when he might actually need her, she finally began to feel at peace.

And then suddenly, finally, wonderfully, it was done.


End file.
